


Keep to the Stars

by TealTumbleweed



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: AU after WS, Gen, M/M, Marvel Cinematic Universe - Freeform, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-29
Updated: 2016-04-29
Packaged: 2018-06-05 05:57:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6692320
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TealTumbleweed/pseuds/TealTumbleweed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After actively searching for his old friend for months, Steve accidentally runs into Bucky.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Keep to the Stars

**Author's Note:**

  * For [iamsonny_j](https://archiveofourown.org/users/iamsonny_j/gifts).



> This was supposed to be a New Year's gift for my bestest friend. I failed. I did manage to finish it in time for Civil War, though. Happy new... major feels?
> 
> Unbeta-ed so all mistakes are my own. This is basically an AU set in the MCU because we could all do with some more happiness in our lives.

It isn’t the first time Steve thinks he sees him, not by a long shot. It isn’t the tenth or even the hundredth time either, so he runs straight past him and doesn’t even glance back to check if he was right. He continues his jog along the path, wanting to get home as quickly as possible. The cold is starting to seep through his exercise clothes and it won’t be long until his muscles will start complaining.  _Global warming, my ass_ , he thinks to himself as he pulls his hat further down his forehead.

He’s had his daily run wedged into his schedule for a few weeks now and he’s finally starting to feel like himself again. It’s been hard, waking up in the 21 st century without anything around him to remind him of the life he used to live. At first he literally didn’t have any time to think about it but these last few months have been empty. Sure, he keeps himself busy with work but now all global threats have been eliminated for the time being he finds himself thinking it’s time he finds out what to do with this new life. It feels like a second chance, and he’d never forgive himself if he turned out to be wasting it.

As soon as he gets home he turns on the shower, waits for it to heat up, and jumps under the spray of scalding water, the contrast with the cold reddening his skin. He’s in a bit of a hurry, having dawdled too much that morning not wanting to go out into the cold, so he hurries scrubbing himself clean before drying himself off at breakneck speed to get back into warm clothes.

He could afford to live in a properly heated apartment, easily. He’d tried it, even. It’d just felt too weird, the comfort of the new millennium. Growing up he would’ve killed to be warm in winter but the time spent in Stark’s monstrosity of an apartment building had made him go crazy with homesickness. So here he is, back in an anonymous dump in Brooklyn. Sam often declares him insane for being so insistent to live in squalor but Steve doesn’t give a shit. This feels like home, so this is where he is.

(In the back of his mind, a nagging voice often tells him that he only lives here because he knows  _he_ ’d be most at home here. If he just keeps living here,  _he_ might come back.)

When he’s ready to leave home for the day the incident from this morning is all but forgotten. He has a few meetings downtown to discuss further developments for the Avengers and although he doesn’t really like the management aspect of his current job, it’s busy enough that he hasn’t got the time to think about unpleasant things.

  


♥ ↢ ⋇ ↣ ♥

  


It’s exactly a week later on exactly the same route over the same path in Prospect Park when he thinks he sees him again. He slows down and jogs in place for a few seconds, trying to get a good look at the man from a safe distance. Like last week he’s walking in front of Steve, and like last week, he’s not alone. Before, whenever Steve thought he saw him, he’d always been on his own. It’s probably why he dismissed this being him when he first saw him—it seems logical to Steve that he would be on his own. But this man… Even from the back, he’s a dead ringer for his best friend. He’s walking a bit lopsided but he’d recognize the set to those shoulders anywhere, and the man’s hair, pulled back into a stylishly messy bun, is the exact shade he’s always known.

He has to admit that it’s mostly the girl next to the man that makes Steve want to run on and forget about this mysterious stranger. She seem so young, even from the back, and holds on to his arm, as if he’s guiding her through the woods. A large dog, an energetic golden retriever, runs around them, and the girl laughs softly every time he bumps her nose into her free hand. She says something to the man next to him, and the man laughs as well, shaking his head.

The laugh seems to shake Steve out of his stupor. He chastises himself for getting so caught up in what is obvious a private moment between two young lovers and he stretches his arms and legs before taking off at a high speed. He needs to move on.

He’s past them in seconds and doesn’t acknowledge the pair, just runs on. The dog starts to run after him, and Steve quickens his steps, until—

“Steve!”

The voice makes him stop in his tracks. But it’s not the voice he was expecting, if he  _had_ been recognized. The girl’s voice is still soft but not hesitant, and has a smile to it. Steve doesn’t want to turn around, but then he hears a hushed  _Nora!_ and he loses control over his body and spins around and it’s  _him._ That’s when his feet hit the icy patch he tried to avoid just now and he’s slipping and all of a sudden he’s flat on his back.

He doesn’t black out, not really, but he’s confused for a bit and then Bucky’s face is hovering in his field of vision.

“Jeez, Steve,” he admonishes. “I thought you were supposed to be a smooth super spy, now.” But his eyes are twinkling and surely Steve is dreaming.

“Um,” is all he can say.

“Is he alright?” the girl asks, worry in her voice.

Bucky peers at him a little more closely but seems to find nothing too worrisome. “No blood,” he tells her. “Can you move?” The last bit is directed at Steve.

“I think so,” Steve says and slowly turns his head this way and that. Bucky’s crouched next to him and helps him into a sitting position.

“So, this isn’t how I envisioned our reunion,” Steve blurts out.

Bucky huffs out a breathy laugh. “Yeah, me neither,” he admits. “I wasn’t… I wasn’t gonna… Well, Nora—”

“Did her best to pull his head out of his ass and failed, and therefore decided to take matters into her own hands,” Nora says with a smirk.

At her declaration, Steve sees Bucky turn a little pink. Not wanting to think too much about that, Steve attempts to get up from the frozen ground.

“Ouch!” He winces when he tries to put weight on his ankle. Immediately, Bucky’s hand is on his shoulder.

“Are you okay? What hurts?” he asks with anxiety in his voice.

“No, it’s just my ankle,” Steve says with a frown. “I must have twisted it when I went down.”

“Crap. So sorry about that,” Nora says and he can see she means it.

“No worries,” he reassures her. “It doesn’t feel too bad.”

His face a little bit too grim for Steve’s liking, Bucky helps him back onto his feet. It still hurts to put too much weight on his ankle but he thinks he’ll be able to walk it off.

“Would you like to join us on our walk?” Nora asks him. “You probably shouldn’t try running anyway.”

Steve glances at Bucky. “Sure, I’d love to,” he says, hoping that Bucky wouldn’t mind. It’d been Nora that stopped him, after all. But Bucky’s face stretched into a grin at his words.

“Awesome!” he says. “Can you walk unaided? I’d prop you up, except I’m already guiding Nora…”

Steve frowns, and then glances back at the girl. She’s still smiling but her eyes seem unfocused, staring at the same spot she was earlier and—

“Oh! I’m sorry, I didn’t realize,” he admits.

Nora just laughs. “It’s usually Ames’s harness that gives me away. Bucky joins me each Tuesday so she can be a regular dog for a few hours.”

“She’s really cute,” Steve says when Ames bumps her nose into Nora’s hand again.

“Steve’s always been a sucker for dogs,” Bucky says fondly, causing Steve to blush.

“You’re allowed to pet her, if you like,” Nora says with a small smile. “She’s not on duty right now and she loves cuddles.”

That was an offer he wouldn’t be able to refuse. Steve bends down slightly, careful of his right ankle, and approaches Ames with his hand stretched out. “Hello, beautiful,” he says softly as she bumps her nose into his palm. He scratches her behind her ears and is rewarded with a big, panting grin. Her fur is soft and warm and Steve thinks to himself that no-one could be sad and pet a dog at the same time.

“Let’s keep moving,” Bucky says with a glance at Nora, who’s started shivering slightly.

“Good idea!” she agrees as she loops her left arm through Bucky’s right.

And that’s the moment Steve’s world comes crashing down.

Because it wasn’t just Bucky’s  _right_ arm, it was also his  _only_ arm.

When did Steve get this unobservant? But then he realizes that all this time he’s been looking at Bucky’s face, Bucky’s happy, grinning face, and he smiles ruefully at himself. And that’s when he notices Bucky’s frown.

He takes a breath to say something, but—

“Please, not now. I—just, please?”

Steve nods and has to look away from his friend’s face, the smile gone, and goes back to petting Ames. She doesn’t mind being used as a diversion. Dogs are cool like that.

“Alright, let’s go!” Nora says enthusiastically. She has her hand in the crook of Bucky’s elbow and although Bucky still looks a little bit awkward, if makes Steve feel good to see him like this. For a moment he hates himself for assuming he’d be by himself, lonely and lost in the world. Bucky’s stronger than that, always has been. Of course he’d manage just fine without Steve. It had been, after all, Steve who always relied on Bucky, and not the other way around.

The first minutes of their joint walk are spent in silence. It’s not uncomfortable, per se, but Steve just isn’t sure how to behave. There are so many questions going through his head, things he’d like to, no,  _needs to_ ask Bucky, but he’s pretty sure this isn’t the time and place. He wants to know how he and Nora met, how long they’ve been hanging out, if walking’s everything they do together or, god forbid, if there’s something  _more_ going on between the two. He needs to know everything.

“So, Steve, what do you do?”

It’s Nora who breaks the silence and Steve is a bit thrown by her question. “How do you mean?” he asks.

“You know, job-wise. Bucky never told me all that much about you, to be honest. Always was a bit cagey when I asked about you. He talks about you sometimes but it’s just ‘Steve used to do this’ or ‘Steve used to love that’, you know? Very vague.”

“Hey!” Bucky complains. “I just don’t like to gossip.”

Nora shushes him and expectantly smiles in Steve’s direction.

“Well, apparently I’m a, what did you call me, Buck? A smooth super spy?” Steve grins at Bucky, who rolls his eyes at him.

“Sure, and I’m the pope,” Nora says sarcastically. “He says crap like that all the time. I’m pretty sure he called you an angel once but excuse me for not feeling like falling down to kiss your feet.”

“Nora!” Bucky exclaims, his face reddening slightly. “I did not say that!” He turns to Steve with a grimace. “Honestly, I didn’t say anything like that.”

Steve feels himself blush nonetheless. “Damn, I didn’t know you’d found out about my secret identity!” he says to cover up his flushed state. Bucky just rolls his eyes at him, but when he looks away Steve’s pretty sure his smiling.

Getting back to Nora’s original question, Steve tells her he’s part owner of a firm that works private security. It’s not a complete lie, but far away enough from the truth to exclude any suspicions. In return, Nora tells him about her first year at university and how she plans to become a lawyer. She has a great passion for helping the disadvantaged and Steve can’t help but think many people would benefit from having someone like Nora stand up for them. She’s in the middle of a story about how she threatened to sue one of her teachers who didn’t want to provide the reading material in a format she could use when they exit the park, and Steve’s mentally dragged back into the real world.

“We’re headed this way,” Bucky says softly, indicating the exact opposite of the direction Steve needs to go in.

“I guess this is where we say goodbye, then,” Steve replies. He’s quiet for a few seconds, before he adds, cautiously, “Can I see you again?”

He can see Bucky visibly relax, which warms him more than the surface of the sun could’ve done. “Sure thing,” he says casually, but Steve’s pretty sure it actually means a lot to him. “This question feels ridiculous for so many reasons, but can I have your number?”

Steve beams at him and programs it into Bucky’s proffered phone, and then sends himself an empty text so he’s got Bucky’s number in return.

“I guess I’ll talk to you later, then,” he says shyly. “It was nice meeting you,” he adds for Nora’s benefit. He’d almost forgotten about her even though she’s still attached to Bucky, smiling serenely at the both of them.

“You too,” she returns.

For a few moments Steve just stands there, not looking at Bucky but not wanting to be the first to walk away, either. Apparently his friend feels the same way, as he’s doing the exact same thing. In the end, it’s Nora who releases them from their awkward silence.

“Not to be a buzzkill or anything,” she says ruefully, “but I do have classes to attend later this morning.”

“Oh, right, sorry,” Steve apologizes. “Well, goodbye then. It was good seeing you again, Buck.” He quickly touches his shoulder and immediately feels weird about that, so without waiting for a reply, he turns around and picks up his speed. He’s so lost in thought that when he gets home ten minutes later, he can’t recall how he got there. He shakes his head and jumps into the shower, trying to get his head back into the present.

When he’s done pulling on clothes for the day, he’s got a text from Bucky.

_It was really great seeing you again as well, Steve_ , it says.

  


♥ ↢ ⋇ ↣ ♥

  


The next few days are a bit of a blur. Steve’s called away on an assignment and although it’s nothing nearly as dangerous as he’s gotten used to, he’s completely exhausted when the team catches their flight back to New York.

He’s sitting next to Sam, about to settle in for a bit of dozing, when the other man starts to speak.

“So you’ve been more distracted than usual,” Sam tells him. He doesn’t sound accusatory, but there’s definitely a hint of worry in his friend’s voice.

He hadn’t told Sam about Bucky yet. He doesn’t know how to breach the topic, even though Sam had spent countless hours of his own time on helping Steve search for his lost pal. What can he say?  _Hey, Sam, remember that man we couldn’t find with all the resources being a member of the Avengers provided? Well, I accidentally ran into him in a park_ ? It sounds impossible in his head and the more he thinks on it, the more he starts to believe he’s imagined their encounter.

Shrugging he turns to Sam, before getting an idea and digging his phone out of the bottom of his bag. He turns it back on and opens the message Bucky had sent him. Just seeing it again gives him a little thrill and he shows it to Sam.

He watches Sam read the message and smiles as he sees his eyes widen. “Is this what I think that it is?” he asks incredulously.

“Yeah,” Steve confirms.

“And you’re only telling me this now why?”

Steve sighs as he shrugs again. “Didn’t really know how to deal with it. Besides, we were a little bit occupied with something else. But the whole thing feels so unreal. I mean, I randomly ran into him, for crying out loud! How does that even happen?”

“Wait, what?” Sam says with his eyebrow raised.

Steve recounts the story of their meeting, and with every second it’s starting to feel more real. When he’s finished, all he wants to do is see Bucky again. Christ, he hadn’t even answered his first text… What must Bucky think of him by now? It’d been over three days already and Steve hadn’t even bothered to confirm that he’d received the message.

“But you’re going to see him again, right?” Sam asks, piercing through his worry.

“Yeah, of course,” Steve answers.

“But?” Sam sounds skeptical.

“There’s no but,” Steve tries to reassure him.

All he gets in return is another raised eyebrow.

“I want for us to be friends again,” Steve blurts out.

Sam gives him a confused look. “So? That’s a good thing, right?”

“Of course it is!” Steve shoots back. “But what if that isn’t what Bucky wants?”

Now Sam just looks incredulous. “You’re kidding, right? Why on earth wouldn’t that be what he wants?”

Steve hugs his arms to his chest. “It’s just… You should’ve seen him, Sam! He looked so in his element, joking around with Nora. What if they’ve got something good together? I wouldn’t want to get all up in that. Maybe he’s moved on, maybe I would just be a disruptive factor in his new life, reminding him of the pain of his old. What if—“

“Steve!” Sam all but shouts at him. “Don’t be an ass. From what you’ve told me, you _were_ all the good things in his past life. Why on earth would he want to forget about that?”

He feels miserable, but he can’t quite pinpoint why. “I don’t know. I’m just afraid that he would.”

“Oh, Steve,” Sam says gently. “I’m sorry, but you’re talking shit right now.” Okay, maybe not so gently after all.

Steve just frowns at the ceiling of the airplane. There’s a large smudge on the plastic, moving—

“Wait,” Sam interrupts his observation. “Did you just say he might’ve moved on? Steve, were the two of you in a romantic relationship?”

Within seconds, Steve feels like his face might be an impressively bright red. “No!” he exclaims. “I meant as friends. Just friends. Which we were. Good friends. But, yeah. Just friends.”

“And you were in love with him.” It’s not even a question.

Steve drops his face into his hands. “Yeah. I’ll probably always be in love with him. He’s just so… But he was never interested in me. Scrawny, little, asthmatic me. I know I’ve changed a lot but crazy as it might sound, I don’t  _want_ him to be interested in this me, not if he wasn’t into me back then. It wouldn’t feel real. Not that it would matter—he’s the straightest guy I’ve ever met. You should’ve seen him, always had a pretty dame on his arm. Tried to fix me up a good few times, too. Never worked, of course. Sometimes I wonder if he felt sorry for me.” Steve knows he’s rambling but he can’t quite stop himself, feeling like he’s finally able to get it all off his chest.

“You’re being an idiot again,” Sam drily informs him. “Just focus on being friends for now—of course he’ll want you back in his life. Send him a text and ask him to meet up. I’ll guarantee you you’ll have a reply as soon as we land.”

  


♥ ↢ ⋇ ↣ ♥

  


Sam’s right, of course. He always is. Steve hadn’t known what to send Bucky at first, on the one hand feeling like he should explain his delayed reply but he also hadn’t wanted to assume Bucky’d been waiting for it, either. In the end he’d settled for something short and simple to say he had been out of town but now that he’s back, does Bucky maybe want to meet up?

_Definitely! Busy tomorrow but can do Sun_ , is Bucky’s reply. It sounds so casual that Steve admonishes himself for once again making something into a bigger deal than it probably was.

_Sounds good, lunch? Know a great place near prspct park_ , Steve shoots back. Lunch is a normal thing that two people meet up to do, right?

He doesn’t get a reply straight away—it’s nearing midnight so Bucky might be asleep already—so Steve gathers his things, says his goodbyes to his teammates, once again declines the offer of a chauffeured ride home, and makes his way to the airport’s subway station. Sharing a private jet with the entire team is all right with Steve, but he prefers to make his own way home. Besides, being caught up in the jostle of tired travelers after a mission always calms him down, brings him back to the real world. These people are the ones they’re fighting for, after all. They might be loud and annoying after three days of action but Steve likes to keep both feet firmly on the ground.

As soon as he gets home, he dives into the shower and he can feel the tension leave his body. He still feels strange coming back after a mission—it took him ages to get used to having downtime—but he has his rituals that help him return from Captain America, supersoldier war hero, to Steve Rogers, the guy who gets groceries for his elderly neighbor. (Speaking of his neighbor, he should probably check in with her in the morning. He hadn’t had time to tell her he’d be away and she might’ve needed something in the meantime.)

After his shower he still feels too hyped up to go to sleep so he makes himself a cup of green tea and grabs his sketchpad before settling in on his absurdly comfortable couch. Most of the drawings he’s done so far have been strange mixes of his past life and his new, trying to reconcile the two opposites into something that works. His favorite so far is a sketch of his mom, sitting in the chair in front of the window of Steve’s new living room. He often wishes she could’ve seen him like this. He likes to think she’d be proud of him and for a moment he imagines her voice and he knows that she’d be so happy for him that he’s found Bucky again.

Turning to a new page in his sketchbook, he starts on a memory from his early teens: Bucky and Sarah, heads close together as they try not to laugh at Steve, covered in charcoal smudges. It had started out as little accidents, where Steve was so caught up in his drawing that he didn’t notice the black smears on his face where he’d rubbed his nose. But seeing his mom and Bucky, his two favorite people in the entire world, so happy at his apparent misfortune, made him do it on purpose every once in a while. He’d pretend to be affronted by their joy, which had only made them laugh harder. Steve always used to feel like he was a burden to the both of them but in those moments, however insignificant they might have been, were all his. His opportunity to cheer up his loved ones. To Steve, those moments had shone the brightest.

After half an hour of focused sketching, Steve feels his eyes start to droop and decides it’s time to go to sleep. He puts away his drawing materials and gets ready for bed. When he’s settled, he checks his phone one last time. He’d been so swept up by his drawing that he’d missed Bucky’s reply.

_Sounds good, text me the address and I’ll meet you there at 1_ .

Steve smiles and sends a quick response. He’s asleep within minutes and whereas he’s normally still plagued by intense dreams after a mission—however peaceful it might’ve been—he dreams of warm hugs and carefree laughs.

  


♥ ↢ ⋇ ↣ ♥

 

 

When he wakes up on Sunday, it’s just starting to get light and Steve is feeling anxious. On the surface it might look like they’re just two old friends meeting up after years of absence but to him it’s so much more than that. He isn’t sure what Bucky wants from Steve and that feeling is so wrong that he doesn’t know what to do with himself. He’d never have thought that the two of them would ever reach this vague stage between being friends and complete strangers and it hurts a bit, if Steve has to be honest. It doesn’t feel right.

The problem is, a lot has changed since they’d last met up as friends. Even with the war on they’d had their moments of camaraderie but they’d left each other’s side so abruptly that there’s just no set way to handle this properly. What do you even say to your friend who you assumed was long dead? And then turned out to be a brainwashed assassin? Steve is desperate to find out how Bucky got out of the Hydra’s clutches, how he got to the point where he is now. When Steve saw him with Nora, only the slightly haunted look in his eyes was indicative of his past. He can’t even imagine what he must’ve been through. When Steve woke up, he was around people meaning well who did everything to make sure he felt comfortable. When Bucky’d woken up…

It’s no use thinking about that, now. What Steve needs to do is get his head back in the game so he puts on his exercise clothes and goes for a long run, pushing his limits. When he gets back, he’s feeling more like himself again. He takes a quick shower and then spends a good half hour trying to decide on which outfit to wear. He knows Bucky wouldn’t care if he turned up in his pajamas, but still… He wants to make a good impression. At least he won’t be dripping with sweat, this time. God, he must’ve looked a right mess when he’d tripped back in the park.

Intending to do better this time, he eventually settles on a dark gray sweater and green shirt combo on top of a neat pair of jeans. He still hasn’t been able to figure out modern fashion but most days he manages to compromise between the old and the new. Just like in his drawings, he tries not to forget his past, nor ignore his present. It’s an odd place to be in but that’s where Steve is, and he’s managed to accept that at least.

When he’s ready to go out and meet Bucky it’s still only just after 11am, so he leaves his flat to knock on the door next to his. When Mrs Braden greets him it’s with a brilliant smile lighting up her face.

“Steve!” she exclaims. 

The elderly lady shuffles him into her apartment, and Steve feels his heart swell up. “I’m sorry for leaving so suddenly,” he tells her. She only shushes him, however.

“Don’t be silly. I might be old but I can still take care of myself.”

“I know that,” Steve says quickly. “Doesn’t keep me from worrying sometimes.”

Mrs Braden laughs. “Worrying, you? What do you think about me? I might not know what it is you’re up to whenever you decide to disappear for a few days but the whole secrecy thing isn’t making it any better.”

Steve ducks his head, blushing. “Yeah, yeah,” he allows. “Let’s keep it at that we both worry about each other. Now, is there anything I can do for you?”

In the hour and a half Steve has before he needs to head out to meet Bucky, Steve assembles a new cat tree for Mrs Braden’s two rascals and gets her a few groceries from the store down the road. Afterwards they share a pot of tea and she tells him of the adventure she’s had with a bunch of her geriatric friends; a trip to a small museum downtown. One of her cats, Percival, is perched on his lap and he feels calm carding his fingers through his long fur.

“What’s making you so anxious?” Mrs Braden asks eventually, perceptive as ever.

Steve sighs. “You know that friend I sometimes talk about?” he asks her. “Well, I ran into him again a few days ago. We’re meeting up this afternoon.”

“Steve!” she exclaims. “How wonderful! Now that’s what I call a happy accident.”

At that, Steve has to smile. “It sure is,” he agrees. “I’m just not sure what to expect, you know? It’s been so long since we last saw each other. And at the same time, only a few years have passed. What am I supposed to do with that? There is no protocol for this!”

“Oh, sweetheart,” she says. “It just is. You need to accept that you can’t control everything. How do you think your friend must feel? Is he not in the same boat as you are? Surely he’s just as much a mess as you are.”

“I’m not a mess!” Steve says. Mrs Braden just smiles. “Oh. Yeah, okay. I guess we’ll be fine, then.”

“Exactly. It’s no use worrying about it. And since I know you’re going to anyway, you might as well enjoy it. Besides, I want to know all the details when you get back! Make sure to make it a good story, hm?” Mrs Braden winks at him and Steve thinks how lucky he is to have someone like her in his life.

  


♥ ↢ ⋇ ↣ ♥

  


When Steve approaches Bagels & Beans a few minutes before the designated time, Bucky’s already there, leaning against the fence surrounding the small outdoor cafe in front of the coffeehouse. The tables look out on the park, and Bucky’s observing a few kids playing frisbee with a soft smile on his face. He doesn’t look up until Steve’s in front of him.

“Hey,” Steve says with a bit of an awkward wave.

“Steve!” Bucky’s smile transforms into a wide grin as soon as he sees the other man. “You’re here.” He sounds like he doesn’t quite believe it, and Steve wholeheartedly agrees with that.

“So are you,” he says, answering Bucky’s grin.

Bucky ducks his head and rubs his neck. “Yeah, it’s just… Weird, you know? I still can’t really believe it.”

“You can say that again. You wanna go inside?”

With a nod Bucky turns away from the fence and heads towards the door. The interior of Bagels & Beans is muted and calm, and it’s not busy for a Sunday afternoon. Steve’s not that fond of crowded places to begin with, and he figures Bucky must be the same. At the look of relief on his friend’s face, Steve can conclude he was right.

They pick a table next to the window that offers a good view of the park as well as the cafe itself. Within seconds they’re saved from the prospect of awkward smalltalk when a server comes to get their drink orders. Steve hesitates for a bit—he’s dying for some hot chocolate, but doesn’t want Bucky to think him weird. After a few seconds of pretending to study the menu, he orders it anyway.

“Oh thank God,” Bucky says. “The same for me, please.”

As soon as the server moves back to the bar with their orders, Steve raises an eyebrow at the man in front of him. “Thank god?” he teases.

With a huff of breath, Bucky shrugs. “Caffeine messes too much with me so coffee and tea are kinda off the menu. I love hot chocolate but not everyone deems that an, uh, adult choice.” He smiles. “Figures you’d still drink that, though.”

When they were younger, hot chocolate had been a special treat for days like Christmas and Bucky’s birthday. To Steve it’s still something to celebrate, and reconnecting with Bucky seems the best excuse.

“It’s one of few things that still taste the same,” Steve agrees with a smile.

For a moment they’re left just looking at each other. Steve notices how Bucky’s face seems sharper now, accentuated by the light stubble on his jaw. The look in his eyes is less playful and more haunted, his smile not quite as confident. Altogether, he thinks Bucky looks like an entirely different person. What hasn’t changed, though, is that his friend is absolutely beautiful.

_Okay, Steve. Not the time for those kinds of thoughts._

“So,” he starts, to distract himself from his mind. “Nora seems nice.”

He almost cringes from the blandness of that statement, but it’s better than asking any of the million questions that race through his head.

“She really is,” Bucky says. “I’m so lucky to have found her. She makes me want to become better, you know?”

“Oh,” is Steve’s reply. So there _is_ something going on between the two of them. “That’s… good. How did the two of you meet?”

Bucky smiles sheepishly. “I signed up for this program, my therapist urged me to. It’s to—“

“You have a therapist?” Steve blurts out.

“Yeah?” Bucky says hesitantly.

“No, that’s good. Real good,” Steve says. “I was just surprised, I guess. I mean, I know so little about you...”

“I know what you mean,” Bucky says. “Feels like it shouldn’t be that way. Not ever.”

Steve nods, relieved that his friend still feels the same. “Anyway, you were telling me about a program?” he prompts Bucky.

“Yeah. It’s set up for people with a handicap—any kind of handicap—to help each other out. I guess it’s mostly so we realize we’ve still got a lot to offer but it’s nice working with someone who doesn’t look at you with pity in their eyes. I help Nora out doing some chores once a week, and it’s nice to have someone to take long walks with. In return, she offers me company and a voice of reason when I need one. It’s a mutually beneficial relationship,” Bucky says with air quotes around the last part.

“That sounds great!” Steve says. “So how long have you known each other?” _How long have you been back in normal society_ , he leaves unsaid.

“A few weeks now? Not that long. But apart from her and my therapist I don’t talk to that many people so it’s been really great.”

“Ah.” Steve is silent for a few seconds. “Did you—have you tried—“ He trails off, not sure how to phrase his question without sounding accusatory.

“Did I try looking for you?” Bucky helps him out with a wry expression on his face. “I wanted to. I just… I didn’t think I was ready.”

Steve looks down at his hands where they’re playing with the edge of the tablecloth. All of a sudden he feels an unbearable weight crushing down on his chest, constricting his lungs and making it difficult to breathe. He recognizes it as sadness and closes his eyes.

“And now?” he asks. “Are you ready now?”

A soft smile. “I think so, yeah,” Bucky says. “It feels right, sitting here with you. Talking. We won’t be able to go back to the way it used to be but that doesn’t mean we can’t make it something new, right?”

Steve lets out the breath he didn’t know he was holding. “Definitely,” he agrees. “I would like that very much.”

Their waiter stops at their table to bring them their drinks and get their lunch orders. They both order a fancy-sounding bagel and when they’re alone again they look at each other for a minute, both sporting tender smiles.

“So, what have you been up to?” Bucky asks him, as if they’re just to friends catching up.

“God, where to begin,” Steve says self-deprecatingly. “I’m still a supersoldier? Man, it still sounds so stupid to say that. I’m working with the Avengers now. But you probably knew that.”

For a moment, Bucky’s expression is pure pain and Steve hates himself for bringing it up. It was unavoidable, really, but still.

“I guess I owe you an apology,” Bucky whispers and Steve feels his heart break.

“No, you really, really don’t, Buck,” he’s quick to reassure his friend. “Everything that’s happened… None of that was your fault. None.”

Bucky’s shoulders slump forwards. “That’s what my therapist keeps trying to tell me. I still blame myself, though. Probably will for a while. Hell, maybe forever. But I need to move forward, and having you back in my life… I think it’ll help. If you’ll have me.”

A wide smile returns to Steve’s face. “Of course, Buck. Till the end of the line, remember?”

The rest of their lunch is spent catching up. Steve tells Bucky all about his life as an Avenger and what he gets up to in his free time (“There’s not much of that,” Steve has to admit) and Bucky in return talks about his therapy sessions and how Nora’s dog Ames is the best ever,  _really Steve_ . It takes them a while but by the end of their lunch, they’re talking as if they never lost touch.

The only thing that seems to be out of bounds seems to be the absence of Bucky’s left arm. Especially the moments where he can see Bucky struggle—who knew that even eating a sandwich with just one arm could be so difficult?—are hard on Steve but every time he wants to say something, Bucky gives him a look that obviously says,  _please don’t_ . So he doesn’t. Not yet. He’ll wait until Bucky’s ready.

  


♥ ↢ ⋇ ↣ ♥

 

 

It’s two weeks after their lunch date when Steve gets a text from Bucky asking whether he wants to join him for a walk with Nora’s dog. Nora’s fallen ill and Bucky could do with the company, he writes. Apart from their lunch they hadn’t managed to meet up—Steve had been crazy busy—and Steve feels a thrill of anticipation at the prospect of hanging out with his friend again. He replies with an affirmative. They’ve been texting quite a bit since reconnecting and even have the odd phone call. It‘s nice. Even though the whole idea of  _texting_ each other is absurd, Steve likes that he has these small moments with Bucky to enjoy. He hopes the weather will be improved by the time they meet up, not looking forward to slipping on another patch of ice and making a fool of himself once again. While Steve likes the blanket of white covering his hometown, he could do without an actual blizzard the next time he and Bucky meet up.

When he approaches Bucky outside the park on Tuesday, it has, indeed, stopped snowing. It’s still cold as hell though and while the cold doesn’t really bother Steve, he’s glad they’re going to be walking. That’ll keep them warm in a world covered in snow. Never mind that Steve would probably always be warm in Bucky’s vicinity, but that’s something he doesn’t allow himself to dwell on for the time being.

“Hey, Steve,” Bucky says with a smile when he sees him. “Thanks for agreeing to come with me. I like Ames well enough,” he gives the dog a scratch behind her ear, “but it’s still nicer to have someone who tags along. I can talk to Ames all right but she’s not exactly chatty herself. The one-sided conversations are starting to get a bit boring.” He laughs, easy and carefree, though there’s still a current of nervousness that anyone but Steve probably would’ve missed. Bucky’s always been a good actor.

“I don’t mind. I’ve always wanted to have a dog,” Steve says, smiling back and ignoring the seriousness for now.

“I remember. You used to whine at your mom for months before each birthday. And Christmas. And then my birthday, because we’d be taking care of him together anyway.” Bucky’s shaking his head, but Steve can see the spark in his eyes.

Steve approaches Ames and let her sniff his hand before he pets the soft fur of her head. “Aw, I think she likes me,” he says when she starts to wag her tail even more enthusiastically and bumps her nose into his palm with a wet lick of her tongue.

“It’s a dog, Steve. Dogs like everyone,” Bucky tells him but even without looking up from Ames Steve can tell that he’s laughing for real now. For a moment the easy banter between them gets to Steve and he’s glad that he’s looking down at Ames so Bucky can’t see his face. This isn’t the place nor the time to start crying.

“All right, lead the way,” Steve tells Bucky as soon as he’s composed himself. His friend gives him a weird look but doesn’t comment, and turns around to head into the park.

For a moment they walk in silence, but as soon as they’re in a more secluded area Bucky starts to tell him of the things he’s been up to in the past week. It’s nice, just catching up without the barrier of a phone between them. So far Bucky’s only had a few odd jobs but he tells Steve about the steps he’s taking in the direction of something more permanent. He sounds proud when he says he’s got a job interview scheduled for later that week, and Steve is happy for his friend. He wants nothing more than for Bucky to feel like he belongs again.

Their conversations are interspersed with comfortable silences, the peace only broken by Ames’s barks and the crunch of fresh snow beneath their feet. Bucky’s just started telling Steve a story about the dog and her unsuccessful attempts at walking on a frozen pond when they come into a clearing and he falls silent. His eyes are unfocused but staring in the direction of a few kids making snow angels on the snow-covered grass.

“Remember when we used to do that?” he says softly. Steve furrows his brow, unsure what Bucky’s sad about when the other man shrugs his left shoulder. “Can’t do that anymore, of course. How pathetic is it that it’s something like that that gets to me the most? I’m supposed to be a grown man.” He laughs self-deprecatingly, and Steve carefully rests his hand on Bucky’s offensive shoulder.

“That’s not pathetic at all, Buck,” he says. “Sounds logical to me. It’s those little happy memories that are spoiled by whatever happened to you. To us. It’s okay to feel sad about that.”

Bucky looks at him and Steve can’t stand his expression. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. Still… It’s difficult to get the bad memories out, you know? I’m trying so hard to make up for all the shit I’ve done and it’s just never gonna be enough. I hate feeling like that.”

“Buck...” Steve voice breaks a little. “You don’t have anything to make up for, you know that, right?”

“I can’t—I can’t just—“ Bucky starts before stopping himself again. He’s silent for a moment, and Steve can see he’s got an internal debate going on. “I’m trying to be okay with what happened, most of the time. Therapy’s done a lot on that front, you know. There’s just some things… Even if I weren’t one hundred percent accountable, someone needs to do something. Why can’t that someone be me?” His voice sounds harsh and defensive, as if he’s had this argument countless times before. It hurts Steve to realize that Bucky’s demons will never truly go away.

“What are you talking about, Buck? Please tell me you aren’t—“

“It’s Nora, all right? Dammit, she was never supposed to—“ Bucky hunches in on himself.

A million questions pop into Steve’s head, but he knows to be patient. If Bucky wants to talk about this to Steve, he will. He shouldn’t force it.

“I was given—“ A pause, a shake of his head. “The Winter Soldier was given a mark about twelve years ago. A prominent political figure ahead of his time that could cause a lot of trouble for Hydra. He was supposed to be alone… Everything else went according to plan. But then suddenly he wasn’t and two others ended up as collateral.” Bucky scoffs. “Collateral damage. As if that’s any way to talk about two human lives. Of course the Winter Soldier didn’t much care at the time. He didn’t know—didn’t _care—_ that he’d left a little girl an orphan that night. A little, defenseless, blind girl all alone in the world. It’s just not _right_. And it never will be. But I swear to God...”

Steve couldn’t go on listening like this. He couldn’t recall ever seeing anyone in this much pain before and the intense sadness he felt taking over his body left him speechless. He let go of Bucky’s shoulder and wrapped his friend in a big hug, for a moment not caring that the gesture might be unwanted. Turns out it isn’t, because Bucky hugs him back just has hard, his arm going in a vice-like grip around his back.

“It wasn’t your fault, Buck,” Steve starts to babble. “It wasn’t your fault. God, I’m so sorry… What they made you do...”

They stay like that for a while, two men wrapped up in each other, the outside world temporarily forgotten.

“I’m here for you, Buck,” Steve says earnestly as they move out of the hug.

“Thanks,” his friend replies, his voice rough. “We always had a good thing going on, didn’t we, Stevie?” He’s not looking at him and Steve tries to keep his eyes averted from Bucky’s face. He’s not sure he’d survive seeing that kind of pain on his friend.

“Yeah,” Steve agrees with a hoarse voice. “You were my life back then. Still are, if you’ll have me. I mean that, Buck, in any way you want me. Just say so if you need me to back off but ‘best friends’ never seemed good enough a label for the two of us. Especially since my mom… Well, you’re my everything.” He looks back up at Bucky and they share a very watery smile.

“Same here, Stevie. I’m not sure I can… But having you close sounds very good right about now,” Bucky says. He wipes at his eyes with his hand and winces at the cold of his fingers. “I’ll, uh, be right back.”

As Bucky heads off to the public bathrooms a few yards from where they’re standing, Steve takes the time to look around. He feels an urgent need to do something to cheer up his best friend—because that’s what he is and always will be, no matter the time that has passed in between—and his eye catches the fresh snow next to the tiny building. He smiles and unceremoniously drops himself to the ground, determined to do this as quickly as possible.

When Bucky returns, his eyes considerably less red and his posture more composed, his gaze immediately snap to the same spot Steve was focused on. For a moment he’s quiet, his face unreadable.

“Why are they holding hands?” Bucky asks him finally, one brow raised.

“Shut up, it’s cute,” is Steve’s reply. All of a sudden he starts to doubt himself. Was this too much? What if Bucky’ll be offended? What if—

“Do you want to get cute with me, Stevie?” Bucky’s grin is still uncertain but the change from moments earlier means all the world to Steve.

“Sod off, jerk.” Steve scowls at the snow heaped up around his boots, a blush creeping up his cheeks. He can’t keep the smile off his face, though.

“Aw, Steve, you only had to ask.” Bucky still sounds a bit off, but there’s more to his tone now. Steve looks up, confused. Trying not to hope. Bucky holds out his hand.

“Huh?” Steve says eloquently. Bucky rolls his eyes and grabs Steve’s left hand.

“Can we continue walking now? It’s way too cold to stand here like a pair of idiots.”

“Uh, yeah, sure,” Steve says with a shake of his head, trying to clear his thoughts. _Is this actually happening_? He looks down at his creation and smiles at the pair of one-armed snow angels.

They walk on as if Steve’s heart isn’t bursting out of its seams.

  


♥ ↢ ⋇ ↣ ♥

  


“You thought Nora and I…? Steve, that’s ridiculous!”

They’re huddled on Steve’s couch, both with another cup of hot chocolate in their lap. It’s a few days since their walk, and while things haven’t been easy on either of them, Steve couldn’t be happier about having Bucky in the place he calls his  _home_ .

“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up. You just looked so happy together! Besides, you always had a thing for the dames,” Steve says with a scowl.

“Yeah, back then, maybe. Because there was no way I could ever hook up with my best friend. You were always so _good_ , Stevie!” Bucky’s starting to look a bit frantic, as if he can’t live with the idea of ruining little Steve Rogers.

Well, Steve Rogers isn’t so little anymore. He shakes his head with a small smile and drapes his arm around Bucky’s shoulder, softly pulling him against his side.

“You always were the stupid one,” he says with an eyeroll.

“Punk,” is Bucky’s reply.

“Jerk.”

It wouldn’t be easy, reconnecting and navigating the unknown charters of their  friendship . But it‘s the twenty-first century, they’re alive, and they’re  _together_ . And that’s all that matters. Steve never used to believe in fate but he’s sure the stars have brought them here. The two of them can mend the broken pieces of past lives and weld it into something beautiful, Steve is sure of that. Together, they can move out of the past and enjoy the present. And that, as they say, is the greatest gift of all.


End file.
